Born of Evil's Fire
by Helka-Chan
Summary: Set just before the Southern Air Temple begins Zuko and the crew reach Zhao's harbor, and pick up the most interesting cargo...


Chapter One: Only Desire

Long before any one of you were born, even before any of your great great great grandparents were born, there was another land. A land rich in culture and diversity. You may think that all was well in this land, but that is far from the truth. There was malice and hate running rampant between the people of that world. Back then, there were four nations, the Air Nomads, Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, and Fire Nation. Each nation had a different element that they could control. Air Nomads were, well, air benders, Water Tribes were water benders, Earth Kingdom were earth benders, and last but not least, Fire Nation were fire benders. For a time there was peace, but beneath was the urge for total power. It was the Fire Nation that struck first, their leader, Fire Lord Sozen, used a great comet to start a war, against these other nations. And the war continued for one hundred years, the Fire Nation slowly winning land in the largest area, the Earth Kingdom. Killed off all the Air Nomads, they did, leaving none alive. Or so they thought.  
One survived, having left his home in the Southern Air Temple, and was incased in ice for the one hundred years. He was the Avatar, the only being who could bend all four elements. He was the only one who could stop this madness. But the bad thing was, he was only twelve. He had lived in the iceberg for the first one hundred years of the war, and in fact, knew nothing of it. As he emerged from the iceberg, he met two members of the Water Tribe, two teenagers. A girl, named Katara, and her brother, Sokka. The Avatar presented his name to be Aang, and showed them his flying bison, dubbed Appa. And from there, history started.

"Prince Zuko…please…do not damage any part of the ship further, we're already sailing on luck as it is." An old, stout man was standing a few feet away from a young man. The young man seemed to be in his teens, and if you looked only at the right side of his face, he would seem handsome. But on the left was a terrible scar. The old man was indeed stout, his head only coming up to the young man's chin or so. But his posture and tone of voice were that of a mighty warrior, or a wise sage. The two were standing aboard a greatly damaged ship, the bow crumpled from a great avalanche of snow. Some of which had yet to be melted off. From the clothing that they were wearing, they were clearly Fire Nation. Rich reds, browns, and gold's were evident in the cloth. The young man--Prince Zuko--, his hands balled up into fists, and steaming, was staring out at the water in which they were traveling. He was deep in thought, or so it seemed. His one eyebrow that he still possessed was crinkled close to his eye, which in turn, was narrowed. "We do not _sail_, Uncle. We have an engine, not silly little flaps of cloth." He spat, glancing back at the old man. But he was not there. Prince Zuko raised his uninjured eye, looking around for his uncle. It seemed as if the old man had simply disappeared. He'd probably gone and gotten himself more tea, the young man reasoned, turning back to look at the water. To his discontent, the ship was slicing through slowly, jumping ever so often as the engine sputtered below. He quickly shoved away the possibility of getting stuck in the middle of the vast ocean, replacing it with the thought of the Avatar. It was the only thing he really thought about, that twelve year old boy. He was in his dreams, nightmares, visions. But like in real life, he was always one or even two steps from his reach. The Avatar was his only passage to regain his honor, to be the Prince of the Fire Nation again.  
For his father to love him once more.  
A weary hand went up to the scarred tissue, barely touching the edges of it, before he jerked it away. Prince Zuko cursed himself for still being sensitive about the scar, even two years after it had been given to him. His uncle had often told him it was nothing to be ashamed of, understandable, even. But the Prince could not give in, it was a weakness. One he should be rid of by now. What had happened, had happened. There was no way to change that…except to capture the Avatar. Of course, he would never be rid of his malformation, it was the mark of disrespect. A lasting mark, one that would haunt him for the rest of his life. No self-respecting woman from the Fire Nation would dare be wed to him for love. Of course, nearly no one in the Fire Nation _ever_ married for love. At least, no one of high breeding. But Prince Zuko would have to accept this, and in time he did. Two years at sea, hunting the Avatar, had numbed such feelings. The other thing left of him that was even slightly human, was desire. There was no compassion, no love, nor hate, save a couple of special people. Everything that made him who he was, was stripped from him, leaving him broken, and obsessed.  
Deep thoughts were shattered as a crewmember hallooed from the tower, pointing towards the horizon. Golden eyes lifted from the water, moving to the horizon as well. Agni be praised, there was the harbor. Only an hour or so away. Feet clad in leather boots moved quickly, turning away from the bow, and to a medium-sized hatch on the deck of the ship. Prince Zuko opened said hatch, revealing stairs leading into the belly of the vessel. The sweet scent of tea wafted up, making the young Prince choke and gag. He absolutely despised the liquid, it was a whimsy sort of drink. Water was much better. A no-nonsense, bland, easily obtained, drink. Of course, he had had his fair share of alcohol, but never much.  
Padding down the stairs, Prince Zuko followed the smell of ginseng, the tea his uncle adored the most, to the kitchen. There, the old man was sipping greedily, and sighing after each sip, as if each one added a year to his life. Clearing his throat, Prince Zuko strode over, taking the cup from his uncle's hands and setting it down on the table. "We are about an hour from the harbor, uncle. No more tea for you." His uncle looked up calmly at him, studying his expression and posture. He seemed stiff, his anger only simmering. This gladdened the old man, to see his nephew this way. It was not many times that he was this calm. And that was _before_ they had caught sight of the Avatar. "Come, my nephew, sit down and waste that hour talking to me." The Prince snarled, his uncle drawing back the slightest bit. "I have many things to do, uncle. Be grateful that I took the time to tell you the news." His uncle sighed, nodding, and looking down at his tea. The anger was returning, ho hum. Like a pot of water with the heat turned up way to high, left unattended. The old man silently cursed his brother, the current Fire Lord and Prince Zuko's father, as he watched his nephew leave quickly. It was his fault that the wonderful, happy, and smiling, fourteen year old, had disappeared, only to be replaced by this sullen and hardened sixteen year old. His fault that Prince Zuko was almost mad with obsession, craving the capture of the Avatar. The only thing that the old man did not seem to think about, was that if he had not let Prince Zuko enter the war chamber, he would not be scarred, banished, and probably never return to the Fire Nation.

The hour seemed to pass as slow as a sail was, the only people seeming to be busy were the crewmembers. They weaved around the boat this way and that, trying to get the last out of the engine. A few times, it sputtered out, dying away. Each time they had been lucky, kicking to life and such, but they didn't want to take any more chances. Even banished, a Prince could not look weak coming into the port. All of the crew seemed to accept it, and tried their best to shine whatever parts of the ship they could. Prince Zuko and his uncle stood at the bow, looking out as the harbor in front of them grew bigger in size. Many large ships could be seen, looking menacing and powerful. Only one spot was left open, which was lucky, seeing as they had not sent a messenger hawk to the captain that ran the port.

Even the thought of the captain ignited Prince Zuko's anger. The two had issues with each other, some going back farther than just being mad. Though, neither would tell what had happened between them from years past. There was obviously old scars there that did **not**need to be reopened. His uncle had tried to pry it out of Prince Zuko, but to no luck. He'd have to get drunk, or something of the type, for the tightly closed box to open. But the Prince never got drunk, only a single drink was all, so there was no chance in that, none at all.  
"Now, Prince Zuko, do not react badly to the captain.." The old man warned, watching his nephew out of the corner of his eye. There could be nothing worse than the two having a bloody argument, when the ship needed to be repaired. The Prince merely blew off his warning, turning to yell an order to a crewman. Sighing, he shook his head, leaning against the railing, and watched as the harbor before them grew bigger.


End file.
